Mommy tries to enjoy a morning out

I live for Wednesdays. Really just 3 hours on Wednesday morning because the rest of the day is consumed with carting the kids to activities. Taking the kids to activities has replaced activities that I once had. Back in the day, I hiked, biked, went to writing groups, and did things that people found vaguely interesting. Now, I transport and not in the cool Jason Statham kind of way.
But for a few precious hours a week I can do whatever I want. I can go to the bathroom alone. I can drink an entire beverage without sharing or having my straw chewed on. I can drive down the street without my three year old telling me I am going the wrong way. I can work on my novel. There is just one thing that has been a thorn in my side during these hours of glorious freedom and thy name is Starbuck's! The barristas really. I enjoy getting a cup of coffee and working on my laptop while the anklebiter is at mother's morning out. Trying to be health conscious, I order a skinny latte, and apparently being an idiot, I am not aware of the correct coffee lingo needed to place an order at Starbucks ...but it turns out neither do the barristas.

The scene went something like this:
"Hi, girl with B.A. in Medieval Literature. I would like a grande skinny latte."
"What flavored syrup do you want?" Imagine appropriate attitude of disdain you get from someone who studied Chaucer and has to get coffee for a plebeian.
"No syrup," I reply, refraining from saying that I have a MFA in Writing , so I'm really more qualified for Starbucks than her, and that they syrup nullifies the whole "skinny" part of the latte.
"Oh, so you just want a latte with skim-milk," she says with a snide tone that implies she needed the Rosetta Stone of Stupid to interpret my order.
Cut to this Wednesday. I'm versed in professional coffee pourer jargon, so order a grande latte with skim milk.
"What syrup do you want in that?"
"None," I say.
"So you want a skinny latte," she chirps. This barrista doesn't have attitude. She is more like a grammar school teacher gently correcting my mistake.
I will point out here that Cranky Mommy doesn't have a lot of patience. The urge to pinch people's heads off comes over me several times a day, but I didn't take coffee-girl down a notch like I really wanted to. I smiled, took my syrup free, skinny, skim milk grande latte and decided to get all coffee girls at once here.
This isn't an isolated incident. I ordered the same drink in another Starbuck's over 100 miles away and got the same response, so here is what I have to say to snotty barristas everywhere:
First, don't get snide with me about the whole tall, grande, venti thing. Venti was made up by a Starbucks corporate guy, so don't expect me to embrace the term anymore than I embraced truthiness. And when I say medium, you know what I mean, so don't say "grande" like I 'm a simpleton. GRANDE MEANS LARGE and VENTI MEANS NOTHING (but 20 in Italian and Italians measure their coffee in metrics, not ounces)! I know your menu, I'm just not feeding into your grammar errors.
Second, why can't you just give me the over-priced coffee I ask for without all the public flogging? I frequently filled in at the Starbucks in the bookstore I worked in and if I can't get a cup of coffee without being made to feel inadequate, then who can? I don't know what part of your psyche is fed by being the "Queen of Correct Coffee Orders" but I may start feeding my psyche by becoming the "Queen of Smacking Down Rude People." I'm sorry you can't get a job with your English/Art/Philosophy/Anthropology/Music degree, but I can't get a job with my writing master's either and you don't see me being snide (except here).
All I want is a medium latte made with skim milk and without attitude and a few hours of peace, is that so wrong?